


Read to Me

by thoughtfullightcollection



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22343383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtfullightcollection/pseuds/thoughtfullightcollection
Summary: Phil reads a book. Dan thinks it's hot.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 24
Kudos: 108





	Read to Me

Phil was gone from his side when Dan woke from their afternoon nap. The room was lit only from the light leaking in through the bedroom door, left open just a crack so that Dan wouldn’t wake in the dark. He smiled at Phil’s thoughtfulness and rubbed at his eyes, waiting for them to adjust before he went looking for him.

He padded quietly through the flat, finding Phil sat on the sofa in the lounge clad only in a black t-shirt and matching boxer briefs, a book held in his hands. Phil hadn’t yet registered Dan’s presence and he took a moment just to look at him. All of his focus was on the novel, lamplight reflecting off his glasses, his lips pursed ever so slightly, and his brow furrowed in concentration. His newly ginger hair was a bit of a mess from their nap and his impossibly long legs were propped up on the fuzzy pouf he loved so much.

Suddenly, Dan wanted that attention on him. 

He crossed to the sofa and Phil looked up and smiled, then patted the cushion next to him, silently offering it to Dan.

“Good nap, sleepyhead?” Phil asked as Dan plopped down next to him on the sofa, and Dan shrugged.

“It was until I woke up and you were gone.” He stuck out his lower lip in a pout and Phil laughed and leaned over to press a kiss there.

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep and I didn’t want to wake you, so I thought I’d read.”

He nodded to the book he was holding and moved to set it on the side table, but Dan stilled his hand.

“What is it? Any good?”

Phil sat back against the cushions and gestured toward the book, saying “Something Corn loaned me over the holiday. It’s not my usual cup of tea, but it’s interesting enough.”

Dan lay his head on Phil’s shoulder and his hand on Phil’s thigh and felt him go still.

“Read to me?”

It was something he hadn’t asked for in years, not since their Skyping days, when Phil had read Dan passages from his favorite books in that deep Northern accent until they both fell asleep.

It wasn’t sleep Dan was interested in now.

“Alright, then, though I don’t know that you’ll like the story much,” Phil said, and began to read.

_She reached across the small gap between them and grasped his forearm, nails digging into the skin beneath his thin cotton shirt sleeve, and he winced at the bite of pain._

As Phil spoke, Dan slid his hand from Phil’s thigh to the hem of his t-shirt and under, fingertips splayed against the warm, smooth skin of Phil’s stomach. He felt the muscles there quiver, but Phil didn’t pause.

_Her eyes full of fire, her face a mask of fury both beautiful and terrifying, she spat unfamiliar words at him in a language he didn’t understand then released his arm so quickly he nearly fell backward into the dirt._

Dan ran his fingers through the patch of hair on Phil’s chest and leaned in closer to press a kiss to Phil’s neck, to nibble at his jaw, to take his earlobe between his teeth.

Phil sucked in a breath.

“Dan-”

But Dan took his teeth from Phil’s skin just long enough to murmur “keep going” and Phil took up the story once more.

_She rose to her feet and looked down at him, her eyes brimming with tears, then turned away and hurried back in the direction she’d come._

Dan’s fingertips found one of Phil’s nipples and he rolled it between them, applying just the right amount of pressure to draw a gasp from Phil and have him squirming in his seat. Still, he kept reading. It had become a game, a challenge.

_What had she said just then? Had he been cursed by the witch?_

Phil’s breath was coming faster now, his tongue stumbling over the words as Dan’s fingers dipped below the waistband of his boxers.

_The sun was setting as he mounted his horse outside the tavern and set off for home. It was full dark by the time he arrived, and he stumbled over the threshold, felt his way to the table that held his sole candle and fumbled to light it._

Phil’s breath hitched as Dan’s hand wrapped around him, finding him hard and leaking, stroking him from base to tip with that little twist at the end that drove him a bit mad.

And still Phil read, the words pouring out in a rush as Dan rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock, through the wetness he found there. 

_The low light cast shadows on the bare walls of the one-room cottage. He caught sight of his own shadow and shivered. It was a twisted thing, not the long, broad shape he knew so well-_

“Oh, fuck it!” Phil tossed the book across the room, not caring where it landed, and pulled Dan against him for a rough, biting kiss. He thrust into Dan’s hand once, twice, and then he was coming on a moan, spilling over Dan’s fingers, Dan following soon after.

“I think”, Dan panted, sprawled across Phil’s chest, “we need to send the author of that book a thank you card.”

Phil giggled. “At the very least.”


End file.
